The King of All
by dizzybuns2
Summary: The young also dream for to be something amazing, don't they? Always oblivious things they could do to take them higher. Beyond money and fame. Beyond family and friends. To paradise where they rule. I am one who dreams of a special paradise, but what stand in between my dream and reality is a two hunters (one in love with a fallen angel), demon, and a rouge archangel. Destiel


A man no older than twenty-five sat beside an angel in a dusty cellar while quietly reading the Bible. The angel whimpered pathetically when the man moved his arms slightly. The man looked at the broken wreck beside him, taking in his blood-stained blonde sex hair and dirt-caked skin, and his defined jaw line that once held confidence, now slack and exposing inner weakness. The angel's his toned body was slightly thinner than it was before, but still good for just about anything . He slammed the book closed, making the angel flinch and rattle the chains. The echo of the metal in the blackened area made the man laugh with a dark sort of glee.

"You know...when you came here to kill me you seemed so sure of yourself," he said thoughtfully. The angel could clearly detect the sarcasm in his words. He had been in the dungeon-or basement, he wasn't sure-for some time. He was now accustomed to the man's habits and knew by the playful edge in the man's voice that he would suffer more abuse. He didn't fight it.

Oh how pathetic I must look, Diliges thought. It was so different from what he was used to. In the past, when any angel heard his name they would think of arrogance, rebellious behavior. Not against his Father, but against those who didn't believe. Some who didn't believe in God didn't deserve to exist. Now he lost his power, both physically and as a holy being. The angel vaguely remembered the outside world, for his time in this prison seemed like forever, but he did remember the innocents. They had done nothing to face Diliges's wrath, and though he could see this, they died as he saw fit. He thought in the end he would be rewarded for his effort to cleanse the Earth of such filth. In the end, he had not expected to be stripped of his clothing and chained by his wrists to the large metallic cross behind him by a mere mortal.

Diliges should've been humiliated. He should've been disgusted by the man's sick sense of humor, but he couldn't have cared less at that moment. He was weak and broken. His brothers didn't save him as he thought he would. Hell, that demon and his archangel sister didn't save him. They saved people sometimes. If they were worth it...

Maybe he wasn't worth it. Diliges felt alone and abandoned. He felt his lungs tighten as he tried to calm his breathing without the man noticing. He failed miserably. The man shook his head at him as he slowly got up from where he sat. He picked up the bowl of blood that had collected under Diliges's feet over the past- what, days? Weeks? The angel wasn't sure.

"You know me, do you not?" the man asked calmly, as if starting a normal conversation, "I am a prophet of God."

The angel didn't answer as he watched him saunter to the table at the far side of the room. The man's shoulders hunched over as if he were angry. The jug he held in his hands was familiar. He poured the slick substance onto Diliges and rubbed the substance all over him, making the angel shudder. He cringed when the man swiped his ass. The man was all too familiar with that particular body part, and he was all too familiar with the man's habits. He had been abused and taken advantage of more time than he could count. This game was not new to him.

The were about to play a game of Three Strikes. You only got three chances before you were punished for your "lack of knowledge". Diliges barely got anything wrong, but still endured the torture so he would keep his place. The angel was no superior being here.

The man had ripped the angel away from his thoughts. He had an angel blade, one of the few things that could actually take his life. It was newly sharpened and shone despite the lack of light; the fear and excitement was obvious on the angel's face.

"Here's today's question," the man announced. The angel's ears perked up while he swallowed back the lump in his throat.

"What's my name?" he whispered. The angels mind reeled, but the fact that he wouldn't win this one was apparent. The coil in his stomach almost made him speak out.

Why this question? Why? Diliges wondered. He kept his mouth shut though. He wanted pleasure this time. It was the only bittersweet thing that came out of his punishment.

"I am a prophet," the man whispered softly. "A prophet of God. You have many names engraved into that divine brain of yours. So, here's my question: What's mine? You figure that out and I set you free. No more pain. No more pleasure. Just freedom."

The angel, extremely confused, nodded and tried to remember the names of the only prophets who would've done that to him. There were at least four of them. Diliges feared his defeat, but he looked forward to the painful, exhilarating sex that would surely happen afterwards. Diliges hung his head. Something was broken in him. The man broke something in him he needed to mend, but when he tried he was met with a brick wall. He decided he would try later. The game had begun, and Diliges was ready to play.

"Nicholas?" the angel guessed hopefully.

"No," the man said, giving the angel a teasing smile.

"Emmett?"

"Hmm...no," the man's voice had an odd, hard edge to it. The man lit a small match. The angel looked into the bright, tiny fire and licked his dry lips.

Diliges really needed to fix himself. That was an issue for another time.

"Tereya?"

"No," the man growled, enraged at being insulted by his inferior. The man tossed the match to the angel, almost like he was teasing him. Diliges was engulfed in flames. He screamed in agony and twisted his frail form to stop the pain, but his efforts were in vain.

With the light from the flame, he could finally see in the dark area. He could see that they were in an abandoned church. The windows had been covered with dirty tarp and the benches had been haphazardly pushed against the wall. Also, he saw the piercing green eyes that haunted every angel for generations.

"Deme-!"

The man stabbed the angel in the heart when he tried to say his name. Diliges gagged and convulsed. Bright light burned from the angel's eyes and mouth, and and he stopped the struggle.

"Ssh...sleep now my tired angel. I am through with you," the man whispered with false sympathy. He ripped the blade from his chest. Looking at the blood dripping from it, he barked out a laugh.

"Let's begin this story shall we?" he whispered to the still-burning corpse of a heavenly soldier. His voice was laced with sadistic anticipation.

The world shuddered, but the people, the angels, and the demons were none the wiser of the one who fell.

**XXX**

It didn't feel the same that night. Sitting at the bar with Sam felt uncomfortable and Dean's drink tasted off. Everything was tense from something, but they neither of them were sure of what it was. They were trying to figure out their next step in finding the missing angel, but they were totally lost. Castiel was off trying the case in his own way and wouldn't answer their calls. So, until they got a clue, they were stuck.

"So, what's a guy like you doin' here?" a girl asked. She smiled and leaned forward exposing as much of her chest to him as possible. Sam looked at her from his place at the bar and huffed out a disbelieving breath. He looked at Dean and shook his head.

Dean chuckled and looked down at his shot of whiskey. He looked up at her and smirked.

"Detective work," he answered mischievously.

"Oh?" she whispered, trying her hardest to sound as seductive as him. "What would that 'detective work' be for?"

"Underage drinking," he said looking at her knowingly then he squinted at, "You seem a little young to be in a shady place like this..."

The girl turned an amusing shade of red under his scrutiny, "Oh, well...uh...yeah, I get that alot!" she stuttered, embarrassed to have gotten caught.

Dean pretended to look her over as if not believing her, but then gave her an indifferent shrug and grunted. She walked away from the bar, almost tripping in her haste to get away. Sam watched her with raised eyebrows and looked at the back of Dean's head in praise. Dean didn't turn to acknowledge him and drank the rest of whiskey. His eyes wandered to a woman across the room.

His eyes widened and his mouth fell open. Sexy could not describe this one. She was leaning against the wall staring back him. He took a moment to appreciate how her long black hair fell into her brown eyes and-more importantly-down her short dress. Her pale skin complimented her bright pink lips. Dean gave her a soft smile and quirked an eyebrow. The woman let out a small laugh and nodded at Dean, wanting him to come over. Sam noticed the intense eye sex. He groaned internally because he knew he was sleeping in the Impala tonight.

When Dean made his way over he rushed to come up with a good pick-up line. "Hey, uh-"

"My name is Mali," she said interrupted seductively. Whether she meant for it sound that way or not, it was hot either way. "Your name?"

"Dean."

"That's all I need to know. Let's get outta' here," she said, pushing herself off the wall.

"My motel is just down the street."

"Perfect."

**XXX**

Mali held on to the headboard as he thrusted into her roughly one last before pulling out and rolling her on top of him. Mali threw her head back at the feel of Dean's tongue sliding in between her breast. Mali now straddled Dean and gasped when the tip of his cocked teased her clit. They both moaned loudly when he finally entered her to the hilt again. Dean started thrusting slowly, but to keep up with Mali's pace, he started to ram himself into her. She let out a short scream of pleasure. Dean bite one of her nipples hard enough to leave a mark. Mali pushed her chest toward him for more. Dean slid one hand to squeeze her other breast and slid his other hand down and used his middle finger to rub her clit roughly.

"Fuck," Mali breathed out, biting a sensitive part of Dean ear, turning him on even more.

Dean groaned one last time before he exploded, tightening his grip on her ass to keep her in place. Mali's body clenched on its own. She dug her nails into his ass she came. Dean fell back on his pillow, boneless and satisfied.

Mali was impressed. Four hours and knew how fuck like a porn star? I may have to visit him again if my schedule allows it, she thought. She laid her head down on his chest, planning on sleeping off her numb legs for an hour and leaving before Dean woke up, but Dean jumped. Mali looked at him, eyes flickering black then back to her brown pupils. She knew what was there.

She turned to face the angel in the room. Fuck, she thought moments before her body was flung into a wall. Her head banged against the wall, knocking her out cold. Dean turned to looked at the angel in disbelief. Castiel gave him a sharp look. Oh, of course he was sent to solve a cold case! Silly Dean.

Dean sighed both irritated and embarrassed, "Hey Cas..."

**XXX**

"Dean you were sent here to find more about the missing angel! Not-" Castiel stopped to gesture at the naked demon now tied to a chair "-this"

Mali and Dean rolled their eyes and tapped her foot impatiently. "Hey, dickhead! I know you're mad at your boyfriend for cheating on you, but can you get on with this? I got shit I need to do."

Castiel didn't answer her, but Dean growled a retort. "What would that be? Draining the blood of an infant or are you gonna go screw some other guy?"

"I may do both, but I have someone I need to meet," Mali drawled back sarcastically.

"Who?" Dean demanded.

"None of your damn business!" Mali huffed indignantly. Castiel had caught her eye. While she and her temporary lover were having a spat, he had done something she missed. She raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth, but instead of speaking she screamed in agony as the holy water made contact with her breast.

"You guys really are kinky, aren't you?" Mali gasped and chuckled. Dean's gaze hardened at her reply, but before she get a word in, the room began to quake. Mali turned her head to the window when she heard the thunder. She closed her eyes against the bright light.

A girl appeared when the light faded. Dark skinned, curvy, and with long curled hair, she was just as attractive Mali. She was clad in zebra stripe pajama pants, a brown bra, and a gold-studded black leather jacket.

"What the hell?" she spat, but before she could say anything else, she watched as Castiel threw down a lit match. The fire spread around her feet, trapping her in a flaming circle. She stared across the room with wide-eyes at Mali, then turned her glare to Castiel, "What. The. _Fuck_?"

"Diana-" Castiel began.

Mali cocked her head to the side and locked eyes with Diana. "Are you fucking kidding me?" she hissed. "You know we are on the same side here asshat!"

Castiel rolled his eyes and tried to explain calmly, but it came out like a colder than he intended. "I know, you and I aren't friends..." Diana tapped her chin with her middle finger while letting out a thoughtful hmm.

Mali barked out a laugh and spoke for her. "Now why aren't you guys friends? Oh right! Your dumb ass decided to play God and tried to _kill_ her because she didn't want to be under your rule. Oh I'm sure she would overlook that to kindly do whatever the fuck you say!" Gesturing towards Mali, Diana raised her eyebrows and made sound of agreement.

Dean looked completely lost. "Wait, wait! What-" He jumped when Sam slammed the door. Sam stopped when everyone looked back at him. Mali heaved a breath and Diana shuffled on her feet and stared at the ceiling in raging disbelief. Sam first looked at Castiel then Mali and at Dean.

"What the hell?" he yelled. He would've said more, but he was cut off by a very bored Mali.

"Look guys, I know a lot is happening right now," she said, "but can somebody get me some damn clothes?"


End file.
